


Fawnlock and Butterfly Watson

by bennyslegs



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-22
Updated: 2012-06-22
Packaged: 2017-11-08 07:38:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/440809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennyslegs/pseuds/bennyslegs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fawnlock spends most of his time solving small mysteries brought to his attention by the animals of the forest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fawnlock and Butterfly Watson

**Author's Note:**

> I like deers, i like forests, i like sherlock and i like johnlock and this was what happens in the middle of the night. I blame all of you.

Fawnlock spends most of his time solving small mysteries brought to his attention by the animals of the forest. They pay him in eggs and mushrooms which he reluctantly accepts - he doesn’t do it for that, ( _he doesn’t even like eggs_ ) he does it because he’s bored.

He’s always bored.

When he’s not (literally) sniffing out clues or licking wrappers left by tourists to determine if the spit came from a male or female human, he’s lazing in treetops or puddles and huffing about not having anything to wrack his brain over. It’s just so peaceful in the forest. It’s hateful.

He watches idly as people (Common folk who are wonderfully easy to steal from) flock to the forest with peace on their minds. They come here to relax, he realises. He might not know people so well yet (Animals he can read much easier, and are much more boring) but he’s learning fast, and he can tell by their faces and their relaxed laughter that they’re here to escape. He desperately wishes from the pit of his belly they’d take him to wherever they came from. He wants the opposite of what they seek.

The only thing keeping him from sneaking into the back of one of their cars is little butterfly Watson. An oddly striped little thing that seemed to have taken to him and hadn’t left his side (or, his antlers where he likes to perch. Fawnlock suspects he’s self-concious about his size and feels important being above Fawnlock at all times).

He’d been minding his own business one day, (which he doesn’t do often) rubbing his antlers grumpily against a gnarled tree when out of the corner of his eye he saw a flutter - and watched transfixed as it came to settle on the tree right beside him. He was in a foul mood and it was rolling off him in great waves, (the animals knew to avoid him at times like this) but this brave little butterfly had flown right into the danger zone.

Words were beyond him yet, (he was sure if he could spend some time around humans, he’d grasp it easily) so he just snorts the way he does best, and looks down his nose at the little thing. Nothing. Fawnlock snorts louder this time, and wiggles his ears for added effect. Nope. He brings his face closer to the brave little butterfly until its inches away from his nose, and studies it as if seeing something on it’s striped little wings might explain it’s bravery. Seconds later, it takes flight and lands right on Fawnlock’s nose. The bloody cheek of it!

Fawnlock’s stomach does a few little flips. This was inexcusable, but no other animal had ever spent any time with him outside of a mystery they needed solving, they’d all said their thanks, left their unwanted gifts, and been on their way and that was that. Fawnlock assumed this was normal, but still resented it. But this little butterfly had ignored his bad mood, and had now ignored his personal space.

Fawnlock liked to ignore rules, too. 


End file.
